I wonder what it's like, looking like a shiny light, sputtering in the night giving off vibes to attract a sight. A Morse dress code, apropos those hidden messages we never showed. You know, I know this language, a magic trick to take advantage.
When high isn't high enough, where do we stop? Every slippery ***** has got a drop. And when you feel it run, Through your blood, Spill the drink And listen to her pretty heart sink and thud.
Thought I was ready for the day but the day turns ever so often it’s not that I don’t hear what you have to say they’re just more words to get lost in.